Dark Interlude
by RuthieGreen
Summary: What happens in the months between when Julia is released from jail (end of Season 6) and she and William meet on the ship (start of Season 7)? How do they cope with the impact of events? Here is one version of what it could have been like... I own nothing-thank you Maureen Jennings and the show writers for these characters and allowing us to play in your world...
1. Chapter 1

Dark Interlude

This series of vignettes takes place in the empty story arc between Julia's release from jail sometime in late 1900 (September?) (S6:E13) and May 24 1901 (S7:E1). Even being generous and forgiving with the timeline (it is TV-fantasy after all) it is arguably as much as eight months' of the show being "dark," as they say in the theatre. So what happens to bridge that time? How do William and Julia end up where they do by the middle of the next year? I decided to pick specific turning points to highlight character development and motivation, and practice writing flashbacks/ remembrances within a story. No plot folks, just looking at how (in my view) the characters tick underneath. **Bolded lines are dialogue straight from in the show.**

 **Prologue:**

" **Do you have anything you wish to say?"** Judge Matthews asked the condemned.

Julia managed to bring enough moisture to her mouth to answer: **"If Detective Murdoch should ask what my final words were, tell him he never failed me. And I so love him…"** before fear stole her speech _._ She stood on the wooden trap door staring at the judge who was in turn staring at his watch, counting the seconds ticking off.

A noise towards the hallway drew everyone's attention away from the proceedings. Detective Murdoch threw open the door in the Don Jail and immediately cried out: **"No, NO! STOP! We** **have** **the killer."** He had been forced to race there in person because the telephone lines to the Jail had been cut. He gestured to the bundle in his arms and thrust it over to the Judge, willing him to understand. **"This is his confession. She's innocent."** He came over to the steps of the gallows, breathing hard, making eye contact with Julia so she would know it was him and that he was going to make it right.

Judge Matthews weighed his decision for a moment **. "Take the noose off her neck,"** he told the hangman.

At that, Julia released a cry of her own and pulled on the noose. William hung on to Julia for dear life, her trembling body racked with sobs, knees buckling, forcing him to hold her upright.

" **You better not be stalling for time, Detective Murdoch,"** warned the Judge.

" **I'm not your honor, I swear to you, I'm not."** She was crying, her arms were around his neck squeezing him, her hands frantically clutching at him. **"It's all right…It's all right,"** he told her.

They clung together for several minutes as the Judge conferred with the witnesses, with William just repeating variations of "It's all right" and "I'm here."

"All right, detective. You and the guard can take her back to her cell," ordered the judge.

"Your honor, no, she is innocent, not back to that cell…" William protested, unwilling to let her out of his sight or his arms.

"That is my best offer. The law requires things to be done in a certain way, detective. I will review the evidence and if it is convincing, Dr Ogden will have a new day in court. Until then, she stays here. In a cell." Judge Matthews was feeling relieved that the execution did not go forward and that the constabulary obtained what was hopefully enough proof. He did not like justice to be subverted. His next move was going to be calling Chief Constable Giles and the crown prosecutor.

"I don't care, I want to leave." Julia was so willing to get out of the execution room she would have gone anywhere, so she just kept nodding that it was all right for her as long as she did not have to stay there. She found she could not walk effectively and stumbled on the stairs. William picked her up and carried her down off the scaffolding, and through the long hall, escorted by the jailers, all the way to her cell.

William refused to leave her and since the jailors had witnessed the unusual events of a few minutes before, they simply locked him in there with her, one guard explaining he would be back with a matron and whispering to him that Julia had not eaten nor drank anything for at least 2 days. William found he could not let her go, wanted her to be next to him, hear her heart beat, calm her shaking. He stroked her hair, patted her back, and rocked her all the while talking softly and reassuringly. He found himself to be crying as well, in relief and love, and sent many prayers to God and the saints for preserving this precious woman.

Julia's sobs subsided eventually and she asked for water that she gulped in a long draught. "William, you came, you're all right, and you came…"she babbled, with shock and her own relief jumbled in her mind. "Where were you? I had given up hope…"

"Julia, hush now. None of that is important anymore. We have Gillies in custody and all the proof we need to free you. This will all be over soon, I promise." William's words set off a fresh round of sobs from Julia and he continued to hold and rock her until she fell in a fitful sleep. He was concerned she would succumb to physical shock, so he kept her warm and monitored her as she slept.

After a very long delay, a matron and guard reappeared. "Detective, Judge Mathews and the Warden will let you take Dr Ogden out of this area. Please come along with us." The guard motioned to William to rouse Julia. Instead he swept her up again and carried her motionless form up the stairs to a small cell where he put her on a cot and covered her up with the waiting blanket.

"Detective, you can leave now. We have everything under control here." The matron ordered him to go, and when he refused, she pointed out that this was the women's prison wing, and men were not allowed.

"I will go if you allow me paper and pencil to write Julia a note and promise me that she will not be alone while I go fetch someone else to be with her." She looked at him steadily and then shrugged. He asked, "Is the telephone repaired?"

"I believe so. That was the strangest thing you know…."

William interrupted her. "Can you get her food and more water? And may I use the telephone?" The matron shrugged a second time and pointed down the hallway to the office for his pencil, paper and telephone. This was the strangest thing she had witnessed in a long time and would have quite the story to tell when she got home tonight.

From a prison office William rang the city morgue. "Dr Grace, thank goodness. I assume you heard the news?" Without really letting her answer he asked if she would come to the jail to be with Julia right away.

"Of course I will, Detective. You must be so happy," she said. "Yes. You have no idea how much," he answered, before hanging up and making a new call.

Constable Crabtree informed him that he had set up a projector for the inspector, chief constable and the judge who were reviewing Gillies' filmed confession at that very moment. William checked his watch—much more time elapsed than he realized, and explained why he was becoming aware of his own hunger and thirst. "George, thank you. I can't tell you how much I appreciate everything you and the men did to find me and free Julia…"

"Detective, we all are so very happy we came through for you and Dr Ogden. Is there anything else you need?"

"No, George, thank you." William looked out office door and down the hallway to where Julia was. "I have everything I need right here."

# # #

Julia woke from her nightmare gasping for air and calling William's name. "It's me, it's Emily. Julia…it's all right. You're safe." Emily Grace sat on the cot next to Julia and helped her sit up and orient herself. Julia pushed her disordered hair out of her face, eyes still red and skin blotched from crying, and noticed where she was and who was with her, then looked around for William.

"Emily. What time is it? Where is William?" Julia struggled to absorb her surroundings, hoping it could be true that she was safe and was going to be all right. She reached out to hold her friend's hand, needing an anchor to reality. "Emily, talk to me…"

"Julia, you were moved to a new cell. Look…" she went to the door and showed her it was not even locked. "You have been asleep nearly 8 hours, assisted I admit, with a little heroin I provided. Detective Murdoch asked me to stay with you since he was practically forcibly removed from here and sent home. Mrs Brackenreid and I have been taking turns looking out for you. Detective Murdoch brought in Gillies's confession and by now arrangements are being made for you to go back to court and be officially exonerated." Emily looked at the other woman closely. "You need to eat and drink something." Emily found a tin cup and poured water in it and handed it to Julia, who sipped it slowly as she examined the puncture mark in her left arm.

Julia started to tear up again and her hand trembled making water in the cup jump. Using her other hand she steadied herself, finished the water and put the cup gently down. "Where are my manners? Emily, thank you so much for coming to stay with me." She tried to smile graciously and put on a brave face that she in no way felt. She did not think she was fooling the other woman in the least, but she was searching for control. "If it is permitted, I would like to use the washroom and clean up a bit. Do you suppose I will be able to have my clothes back for court?"

"I will ask the matron for you. Mrs Brackenreid has already gotten your things, a dress and undergarments are waiting for you. Don't worry, one of us will help you get dressed." Emily could restrain herself no longer, and put her arms around Julia, offering a hug of comfort. "Julia, I cannot tell you how happy we are that you are going to get out of here come back to us." She paused. "I will go ask the matron about the washroom and obtain a meal for you. I will also find out when you will be back in court and when you can have visitors."

"Thank you Emily." Julia hesitated. "I do not think I want any visitors. Tell William if you talk to him I will see him at court."

Emily was surprised, but said only, "Of course. Whatever you want. I will be back in a few minutes." She left to find the matron.

Once alone, Julia was unable to keep herself from shaking and sat back on the cot. She saw a folded paper sticking out from under the pillow and brought it to her lap, recognizing William's handwriting.

 _My Dearest Julia,_

 _I will be parted from you only ever so briefly. I leave solely to assure that you get released immediately and then I will see you get home safely. I will ask Dr Grace or Mrs Brackenreid to stay with you until then. Have the matron to call the station house when you are ready and I will come over to see you as soon as you call. I love you. Ever yours, William._

Julia crumpled the note and smiled and cried into it at the same time. Then every unspeakable moment rushed back to her at once, and she felt if she did not have something to hold on to she would go quite mad.

# # #

"All Rise!"

Judge Matthews sat at the bench and called court into session. He acknowledged Dr Ogden at the table with her barrister and the crown prosecutor on the other side. The judge noticed that the gallery hosted only a few members of the public, including the Chief Constable, Inspector and Mrs Brackenreid, Constables Crabtree and Higgins, and directly behind the defense table, Detective Murdoch. All had agreed it was more important to officially vacate Dr Ogden's conviction than wait for a larger audience or a more convenient time for the proceedings. There was one lone reporter from a local paper who was getting the story-scoop of his nascent career, if he could write fast enough and get to his editor before deadline.

The bailiff asked everyone to be seated, and the judge turned immediately to the defense table. "Do you have a motion to bring before this court?"

"Yes, your honor. My client seeks to be exonerated and immediately freed based on new evidence. I am petitioning the court for her conviction to be vacated." He put his hand on his client's arm as she sat rigidly in her seat, staring straight ahead.

"Does the crown have anything to say in this matter?" he asked the prosecutor.

"I do, your honor. The crown wishes to reverse the conviction and withdraw all charges against Dr Julia Ogden for the murder of her husband, Dr Darcy Garland."

"For the record. On what grounds?"

"On the grounds she is innocent and that she was wrongly convicted."

"And on what evidence?"

"A confession from the actual murderer and substantial evidence that he framed Dr Ogden for this murder. We do not oppose the defense motion and submit one of our own to vacate the conviction."

The judge accepted the documents brought forward to his bench by the bailiff. He was aware that his next words would be read and parsed by his colleagues and the general public, so he took his time formulating them.

"While it is unusual and of grave consequence to undo the judgement of a legally impanelled and sanctioned jury, the evidence in this case is compelling." He looked over at the woman at the defense table in his court, still staring into space.

"Dr Julia Ogden. It is the opinion of this court that you were wrongly convicted and are innocent of the crime for which you were charged and convicted. It is to the credit of the Chief Constable and the Toronto constabulary, specifically Inspector Brackenreid and his crew at Station House No 4 for bringing new evidence to light. I am pleased to officially vacate your conviction, declare you innocent and free you immediately. The court apologizes for the miscarriage of justice." He tapped his gavel and immediately stood and left the bench for his chambers, while the crown prosecutor came over to shake the other lawyer's hand and murmur a kind word to Dr Ogden.

After the judge left the room, several people crowded around, offering Julia congratulations, including hugs from Emily, Constable Crabtree and the Brackenreid's, which she mutely accepted. When they released her, William approached her and took her hands in his, gently telling her he would see her home. He had been overjoyed at how quickly the judge granted this hearing and could barely contain his excitement at seeing Julia again, hoping to hold her and reassure each other that the darkness of recent days was finally over. Once in the court room, however, he became worried about her listlessness and the odd look on her face. When they left the courtroom, he found a hansom to bring her back to the city, and had already booked her a set of rooms at the Queen's Hotel, as her own quarters had by now been given away. She remained unspeaking in the carriage, looking intently out the window and avoiding interacting with him.

Once deposited back in the city by the hotel, he was at a loss to start any conversation that would shake her out of her stupor, so he asked her, **"Shall we go to dinner, and celebrate?"**

" **I don't know, William,"** Julia said simply, holding back tears.

" **What is it?"** he asked.

" **Darcy is dead because of me… because of** _ **us**_ **."**

" **Julia …"** William wanted to reassure her.

" **Can you deny it?"** She faced him directly, looked him in the eye.

He examined his conscience and then shook his head. He had already known the answer anyways. He said softly, **"No."**

She looked at him a moment more, then said, **"I should rest."**

" **Some other time, then,"** he offered vaguely and separated from her.

" **Yes,"** she said politely.

He turned and walked away, stunned and confused. He was trying to understand what was happening, feeling his eyes start to water a little, and willed himself to be steady and not look back.

Julia's scanned where William had passed between the buildings, and she saw he had disappeared from view. She had gone to the gallows innocent and in love with him, and came away from death and the courtroom today feeling guilty and unable to bear his presence.


	2. Chapter 2

**Vignette 1**

Four men sat in silence around a polished oval table. The room was quiet, sounds from the street muffled by the elevation, deep carpets and thick draperies at each window. A mantel clock ticked off the seconds. Silence had lengthened uncomfortably for three of the men; the fourth rested his case, _in obstinacy,_ thought his companions, and was unmoved by their collective pleas.

Finally, the crown prosecutor tapped his fingers on the stack of papers in front of him, and grunted. "So, Detective Murdoch, you are refusing under any circumstances to press charges on Mr Gillies for your kidnaping and attempted murder? I find your behavior most peculiar and I am beginning to wonder if you have been affected psychologically by your ordeal…..And if you are even fit for duty, " he added for emphasis. He had hoped that a little blackmail would suffice to get the detective to change his mind, as logic and common sense failed so far. He was uncomfortable with the persuasion he was getting from the "powers that be" to widen the charges at the arraignment, but he also personally did not like to leave loose ends. He saw that the gambit made the Chief Constable and Inspector angry, but that it had no visible effect on the detective.

William replied calmly. "Gentlemen. I say again. The victim here is Dr Garland. It is his murder that requires justice. You have all the proof needed to convict James Gillies, and no additional charges will make any difference in the outcome or his sentence. The fact that he intended both Dr Ogden and myself to also die, considering he made sure that it would be difficult if not impossible to stop," he stumbled _almost_ imperceptibly on the next words, "her…hanging, is still irrelevant to the case before you. James Gillies would use the additional charges and prosecution to make a circus out of the trial and deflect from his crime. It will indulge his need for attention and he will surely take the opportunity to mock the constabulary and the court, _and_ drag Dr Ogden through the process. That should sway you, if nothing else." The detective looked deliberately at each man, one by one, and did not remove his gaze until the other man dropped his eyes, even Giles.

The prosecutor gathered his papers and stood. "I have half a mind to charge you and Dr Ogden with obstruction of justice, detective." He saw _that_ got Murdoch's attention. "She said roughly the same thing about Gillies' kidnapping of her and burying her alive. She is declining at this time to testify." The detective seemed surprised. _Apparently each of them had come to that conclusion independently. Interesting…._

William started to react but the Chief Constable spoke first. "Detective Murdoch has a point, gentlemen. In my opinion, Mr Gillies' personal vendetta against the detective should be minimized to give the defense as little opportunity as possible to use it for purposes of distraction, or an appeal for that matter. Considering we have a filmed confession and written statements from Mr Gillies about his guilt in Dr Garland's murder, perhaps a trial can be avoided all together?"

The prosecutor was a chess player, who was used to maneuvering and feinting. "You know he will stall and appeal his conviction, regardless? He had to have had help in pulling off these elaborate plans. Those individuals will go unpunished if those crimes are not solved."

Now it was the inspector's turn to add something. Brackenreid said: "We are looking into it all most diligently. Gillies was very thorough, and has killed at least one of his helpers, possibly more. There is no statute of limitations on those crimes and they can be pursued independently …. After Gillies hangs."

Now it was a different three-against-one situation than just a few minutes ago, and the prosecutor, who considered himself a realist, sighed and unhappily capitulated. "All right, gentleman. I will speak to the judge and Mr Gillies' barrister. The arraignment is first thing tomorrow."


	3. Chapter 3

**Vignette 2**

Julia wanted to rest but it was impossible. The hotel suite was both sanctuary and new prison. She found herself afraid to sleep, since she was visited by nightmares every time she tried. The old ones about being trapped in a coffin that she thought she had vanquished returned, and new ones about falling and choking that whipped her upright in bed terrified and gasping, had taken turns battering her sleep. Alcohol was ineffective at banishing them and sleeping in the chair or willing herself to stay awake did not help either. She was afraid of the darkness itself, and felt a choking sensation constantly around her neck. She had started to call Dr Grace several times for something pharmaceutically stronger, but stopped herself, not sure if she was trying to avoid embarrassment or approbation, or feeling that she deserved this punishment, as irrational as that was. The steady stream of notes, callers and messages over the last ten days were all set aside or turned away, and she had had to very firmly assure several people she was all right and just needed rest, to prevent them from all but knocking the door down trying to see her.

Then there was William. He had come by to escort her to the courthouse to see Gillies arraigned, and she told him through the door she was not going to go. He left peaceably enough, but reappeared 2 days ago, saying that Dr Grace had sent him to check in on her and he was not going to leave until he saw her, seemingly prepared to make a scene about it in the hotel hallway. She asked him to wait a moment, and after pulling herself together, cracked the door, showed her face and told him to leave, saying there was nothing further to discuss. "I am not ready to see anyone, William. Please understand and respect that. I know people are well-meaning but I must do this my own way." She could see him start to protest, his eyebrows tenting in disbelief, but she felt nothing except a strong desire to shout _Leave me alone!_

She crafted her next statement deliberately to put him in a double bind: "William, if you care at all about me or my well-being, please, tell everyone I am all right and to leave me be. I will decide when I can return to society, and when I am feeling up to company. Tell them I appreciate their concern, truly I do, but I am trying to adjust to many things all at once and need some time for contemplation—I am sure _you_ can understand that." She watched the war within him play out on his face and in his body language until he eventually surrendered to her request.

"Yes, Julia, of course. I will do as you ask," and then he impulsively reversed himself. "But when can I see you again?" He was nearly pleading with her.

"Let me choose to contact you, William. Please. Go."

 _How did so much desire cause so much suffering?_ she wondered _._ She closed the door on him then, still standing in the hall with his hat in his hand, and made her decision to leave Toronto. Her belongings all packed, she reached down for her valise, and saw the note William had left her at the jail had fallen from the bosom of her dress where she had tucked it for safe-keeping. She had her own war with herself about holding on to it, unable to read it again and unable to let it go. _Ever yours, William,_ it said. She picked it up and pushed it into her handbag.

 _Forever is a long time William, and I am no longer sure that is what I want and can enjoy._ Now all that was left to do was mail off her letters and go downstairs to the waiting carriage.


	4. Chapter 4

**Vignette 3**

Inspector Brackenreid entered the nearly empty station house, removing his hat and running a hand over his hair. The meeting had not gone well and he was sure he needed a drink. He looked over to where his detective was studying fingermarks related to an old, unsolved case, way past quitting time. Murdoch was almost always at his desk or on a case these days, here before anyone came in and last to leave. While the inspector generally approved of work-place diligence and the detective was more dedicated than most, it was starting to worry him just how (at least superficially) buttoned-up Murdoch appeared and how small the man's world had become. Now he was finding work in closed cases, and was going to ruin his eyesight at the rate he was going. Almost 6 weeks had passed since Dr Ogden was freed, but she was still holed up somewhere and he did not think she was communicating with the detective, because he overheard Murdoch let that slip one night to Dr Grace. As he hung up his coat and hat, the inspector thought he was not looking forward to giving Murdoch more bad news.

Rather than call him into his own office, Brackenreid poured two glasses of scotch and almost brought both across the bullpen, and then thought the better of it, swearing under his breath. He put them down, sighed and walked over to the detective's office and closed the door behind him, before saying, "Murdoch, we have to talk."

"Good evening Inspector." William put his magnifier down and laced his fingers on the desk. His eyes burned from fatigue at the close work in which he had been engaged, but he clearly saw his supervisor was disturbed about something. The Inspector had that look on his face like he ate something sour and was nervously putting his hands in his pockets while briefly leaning against the work table, before finally settling in to the chair opposite his desk. Then Brackenreid adopted what William thought of as the inspector's military demeanor, which usually meant something bad was coming.

William groaned inwardly, and set his face into a blank expression to address whatever was next. "Yes, sir?" he opened the conversation to get it over with as soon as possible.

"Murdoch, I got called into a meeting late this afternoon with Chief Constable Giles. There is no easy way to say this. You are being investigated." Brackenreid told him straight out, studying how Murdoch would react.

William thought he misheard, because it made no sense. "Investigated, sir? By whom?" He tried to smile at the absurdity, but that evaporated under Brackenreid's uncomfortable gaze. When the inspector did not answer right away, he asked, "Sir, are you or the Chief Constable finding fault with my work?"

"No. No fault with your work." Brackenreid looked down.

"Then we have nothing further to talk about, do we sir," William stated as he opened his hands and splayed them on the table.

The inspector coughed and straightened. "Murdoch. I am only going say this once. The constabulary is considering bringing charges against you for violating the police code of ethics and conduct. Your, er, personal life, it seems, has brought discredit upon you and by extension the police the force, and someone has a bee in their bonnet about it."

"Sir?" William's voice rose in anger. "What are you saying?"

"Well, it seems that someone took notice of the, um, liaison between you and Dr Ogden that came to light during her trial, and is making a stink. You both testified under oath about your relationship including her admission you spent the night together in the Queen's Hotel." Brackenreid leaned forward and lowered his own voice. "Bloody Hell, man, what were you thinking? Couldn't you have been more a little more discrete?"

William felt his face get red and tightened his jaw. "Sir, I ask again…what are you really saying?"

"I am saying that if this investigation goes forward you could well lose your job, be busted back down to constable, or worse, be booted out entirely for immorality." Brackenreid never thought Murdoch, of all people, would be guilty of _that_ particular sin. "Chief Constable Giles feels he has no choice and he is getting pressure to file departmental charges." He paused before going on. "He wants to know what you have to say for yourself." Brackenreid volunteered to have this hard conversation with Murdoch before the detective was summoned before a disciplinary board. If the talk with his detective goes badly tonight, he was told to ask Murdoch to resign to avoid any more scandal. The inspector watched as Murdoch blinked several times, then swallowed and brought his chin up.

 _So…this is one of the ways that deception is coming home to roost_ , William thought bitterly. "Sir, what is it you would have me say? Dr Ogden and I both testified truthfully and under oath. I suppose Chief Constable Giles already has the court transcript?" When the other man nodded he continued. "I see. I wonder if James Gillies is still stirring the pot in his vendetta against me and this is just another attempt…"

"Murdoch, Gillies or no Gillies, this is serious. One thing the Chief Constable did point out in the transcript was that

Dr Ogden said, quote, "It wasn't like that," unquote, when the prosecutor asked her about that night in the hotel. I need to know what she meant by that…. There is no way to ask this delicately. Did you or did you not…?"

William stood abruptly, pushing his chair back with some force. "Sir! This is outrageous. I really must protest!" he sputtered to the inspector.

"Sit down, man! Bloody Hell! Who would you rather have ask these questions and who would you rather have to answer them?" Brackenreid hissed, trying to keep from being overheard.

William's stomach was cold, his chest tight. "I see." He stayed standing, and put his hands behind his back. "Then my answer is, "no", sir. Nothing of an intimate nature transpired between Dr Ogden and myself at the Queen's Hotel then or…or anytime." His pain and embarrassment were acute, and he could not keep it entirely off his face.

Brackenreid was both surprised and relieved, and then immediately puzzled. "Then why? You risked your reputation! For nothing! It makes no sense."

William hesitated for a long movement, feeling the churning within, but decided he owed the inspector the truth for all he did to free himself and Julia from Gillies' trap. He sat down again and absently tapped a small wooden box by his inkwell. With effort he calmed his voice and explained, "To obtain a divorce from her husband, she had to give him grounds for one. She wanted to take the shame and scandal on herself to leave his reputation intact, especially as it pertained to his career. Her attorney told her she needed to have proof of adultery, to include witnesses, guest registry and receipts, everything that legally would be required." He paused, hesitated at the next bit.

"She offered to get someone else to play the part of her lover for her, but in good conscience, I could not let her do that. It would further damage her reputation, and the truth was that… I was the one who was coveting another man's wife…" _I would also feel humiliated for people to think Julia had been with any other man than me_ , he thought to himself.

"I told her we would do this together and that it was only right and fair that I risk the stain on my own reputation with her, in order to leave Dr Garland blameless. We went to the hotel together and allowed other people to come to whatever conclusions they wanted or needed to….Sir, we never thought it would be widely known… Ultimately, it would have been a private parliamentary bill for divorce, not necessarily generally publicized…"

"But I thought that as a Catholic, you cannot marry a divorced woman. How was a divorce going to help you?" Brackenreid recalled the suggestion that Murdoch could have orchestrated the whole thing to eliminate Garland, thus clearing the way for marriage to a widow instead of a divorcee.

"I could not marry in the Church, in the eyes of God, but I would have made my peace with a civil marriage."

"Murdoch. What if Garland continued to refuse a divorce—what would you have done then?" Brackenreid ventured to ask out of curiosity.

William cleared his throat and answered, bringing his head up again. "We'll never know now, will we, sir." He paused and made himself take his shoulders down and voice neutral. "Sir. I have answered your questions and I will swear under oath if necessary. I would ask you to leave Dr Ogden out of this if at all possible, as she has been through enough." He looked directly into the inspector's eyes. "If that is all, I would also appreciate this being a closed subject. I have work to do." He gestured to the piles on his desk, with all the dignity he could assemble at that moment.

Inspector Brackenreid took a while to consider how much of Murdoch's confession needed to be communicated. He decided to tell Chief Inspector Giles most of it, and have the detective swear to the facts of the matter, even though it was going to be embarrassing to do so. _So, they have never been lovers._ He found that strangely disappointing and then shook his head and quickly chastised himself for the thought. He also thought that James Gillies could indeed be behind this new agitation, and was going to set some men to quietly investigate that, and he had a sly thought that Gillies could be behind other recent problems too. "All right, Murdoch, you will probably have to put that in a sworn deposition, but that will end the matter I believe. Chief Inspector Giles will see to it. Enough said. I am ordering you to go home. Now. No excuses." He put his hand up when Murdoch protested and pointed to the door. "Out," he said.

William scowled, but straightened his papers and gathered his things to go to Mrs Kitchen's, hoping to be able to sleep with all the thoughts that raced in his head.


	5. Chapter 5

**Vignette 4**

Mornings were usually the best. Even if sleep still eluded her, Julia appreciated the sunrise on the lake, seeing the shadows form and shorten bit by bit as time passed. It at least let her know that the earth still revolved and gave her something to look forward to. She had been at the lake house a little more than five weeks, alone in this uncomplicated space, and still could not relax.

Mornings were failing her now. Today the lake surface was choppy, the sky threatening, and in her imagination she could be gazing at the ocean from some far-off land. She already had the insight she was running away and that distance in and of itself was not the answer, but she was not sure what to do next. She had hoped that James Gillies would have been convicted, sentenced and hanged by now, as her own trial and execution date had moved that swiftly. But, _no_. Gillies and his attorneys were dragging every little thing out. Waiting to go back to Toronto until he was dead was not realistic, no matter how hard she desired it. _Pretty soon I will not even have any neighbors here, as residents pack up for the season and close all the summer houses on the lakeshore. Getting deliveries of food and necessities will get more difficult by the end of November or December, and it is clear that I will not be able to get my position back at the asylum without actually pleading my case in person, considering I am getting nowhere in my letters_. Her thoughts raced and she was filled with indecision about even small things.

Telegrams from both Ruby and her father reached her, full of happiness she was alive and well, followed by lengthy letters of their own pain and horror at events. She knew they were being honest with her, but the communication did not help her feel any better—worse actually for the widening circle of people who were hurt, and about which she felt so very guilty. For a while her innermost thoughts harbored the idea of diving into the lake and seeing if she could swim to Rochester. More recently this thinking, which she normally rejected as unwanted and distorted, was starting to appeal.

Julia looked again at the agitated water— _Just about the way I feel today too._ She stared at the whitecaps whipped by wind, then had a brief stab of humor. _Some psychiatrist I am_ … _That is just the surface, after all. Underneath, the lake is deep and moves in its own inexorable rhythm, pulled by much larger forces, like the moon and convection, flowing ultimately out to sea, and nothing stops that._ Julia was not certain when her trauma settled into self-pity, but thought she finally recognized she was not going to get better on her own and she needed help. _Whenever I am waxing metaphorical it is usually a bad sign._

Even deciding that much was exhausting. She hugged her robe tighter against her shoulders and chest as rain spattered in harsh drops on the windows. She moved away towards the kitchen in the back of the house to the table piled with papers and selected one from her previous psychiatrist. He had offered to send her someone with whom she could talk and possibly get some relief. She calculated he was probably in his office by now, so she took in a deep breath, exhaled, and picked up the telephone to make the connection.


	6. Chapter 6

**Vignette 5**

"Forgive me Father, for I have sinned. It has been 2 days since my last confession." William knelt with his head down, waiting for Father Faire to bless him.

"What have you to tell me, William…that you have not already told me?" Father Faire was well-aware that his parishioner was really here to see him and not solely for confession, and that William wrestled with that as much as he struggled with his conscience about everything else.

"Father?" William was pulled out of his own inner dialogue by the question.

Father Faire had witnessed the transformation of this highly intelligent, virtuous and rather straightforward man into a more complex and nuanced soul, currently wracked with a variety of torments. The immediate cause, of course, was his relationship with Julia Ogden. Over time she steadily influenced William into engaging his faith directly, questing and questioning, allowing a more self-aware and less rigid person to form. An even more compassionate one too, as well as sometimes painfully conflicted.

Father Faire, though, concentrated primarily on tending to the other man's immortal soul, which was the problem at hand today. "William, your litany of sins has not shifted in the least and your penance has not been effective in correcting either your attitude or behavior. You have been withholding from confession, but the Lord knows what is in your heart. You cannot hide behind ritual and formality forever." He made his voice deliberately sharp and then fell silent, waiting.

On the other side of the confessional grille, William absorbed the blow with equanimity, just another in a series to which he was feeling increasingly numb. The old priest was leaving the parish by mid-October, reassigned to shepherd a church out west. They both knew these were his last chances to bare himself in confession, just the two of them, and that he had been working up to this (or dreading it) for a while. William, who had been clasping his hands tightly, decided he could allow himself to let go, be humble and say out loud what he avoided even thinking about.

"Father, I did everything I knew to do to preserve my life and get rescued when Gillies had me. But I ran out of time. I wanted to save Julia, even though I did not trust Gillies to keep his side of the bargain. I accepted my death as a fair trade for hers, even though I do not think I wanted to die…." he stalled. Father Faire said nothing, waiting patiently. "Father, I did not pray, ask God's forgiveness or prepare my soul…I lost my faith, right when it was the most important—the hour of my death." Each word was softer and more hesitant than the previous one.

Father Faire allowed the statement to hang in the air. Eventually he shifted in his seat, and spoke equally softly. "In what did you lose faith, William?" He paused. "Christ's Mercy?"

"No."

"God's plan?"

"No."

"The embrace of Heaven?"

"No."

"Then what, William? What preys on your soul?"

"That I am not worthy of any of it." William forced it out of himself.

"Were you suicidal William? Did you decided you would not live if your Julia died?"

"No, I don't think so…"

"So have you substituted your judgement for God's will?" He paused. "How dare you when that is not your call to make?" Father Faire offered this slowly, with grave humor, listening intently and watching the shadows from the other side of the booth as his parishioner let out a long breath and silently, stoically, held back tears. After a while, Father Faire asked William to pray with him:

 _Suscipe, Domine, universam liberate. Accipe memoriam, intellectum, atque voluntatem omnem…._ Receive, O Lord, all my liberty. Take my memory, my understanding and my entire will…


	7. Chapter 7

**Vignette 6**

"Good Morning, Dr Julia Ogden, I presume? I am Kate Ripley. What a lovely house, and the view is enchanting." Miss Ripley smiled at Julia and then returned her gaze to the deep and wide covered porch with stone pillars and hipped roof, and the expanse of lake beyond, currently a sparkling jade green in the afternoon light.

Julia took in the short, plump and plain woman standing outside her door, dressed all in a rust-coloured light wool traveling suit, holding onto a leash. She judged her to be at least fifty, with fading blonde hair, silver at the temples and a face that changed for the better when she smiled. _Not what I expected, but I suppose neither am I to her,_ Julia told herself. This unassuming woman was who her psychiatrist sent to come and stay with her and act as her counselor. _No one said anything about a dog, however._

"Good morning Miss Ripley, or is it Doctor Ripley?" Julia said as she opened the screen door to invite her in, and offered her hand in greeting. The other woman shook Julia's hand in her own rough one and then unwound the leash from trapping her ankles. Julia looked expectantly at the creature panting on the floor.

The newcomer said, "Please call me Kate, if you are comfortable with that. I am not a doctor, not of medicine or philosophy. My background is in nursing. And I have no idea who this animal belongs to. She came racing over here as my carriage pulled up, trailing the lead. Do you know it? She must belong to one of your neighbors don't you think?" The bulldog was making herself right at home, already appropriating a braided rug and looking from woman to woman, cocking an eyebrow left and right as she did so.

Julia sighed. "I am not sure, but if we leave the dog here, I can call around."

"Excellent. I will get my luggage. May I bring it up into the house?" Kate Ripley seemed straightforward, kind, and Julia was already comforted by her business-like and pleasant manner.

"Yes, do. I will come and help you." The two women went to the circular gravel drive where the coachman had stacked Miss Ripley's belongings and easily carted a small trunk and two boxes into the house and up to the guest room. After completing that task, Julia gave the other woman a brief orientation to the house and then they walked to the water's edge with the dog, superficially chatting and exchanging pleasantries about the lake, the flowers and plants, and the nearby houses.

"Dr Ogden, I think we should talk about why I am here," Kate said after a while, standing next to Julia as they gazed together at a sailboat's passing. "I understand that we just met, and must become comfortable with one another, but setting expectations early on helps the process."

"Please call me Julia, and yes, I think we should discuss it." She pointed out another boat on the horizon. "I have been having some problems sleeping, nightmares actually about a recent event and a return of a few symptoms associated with a previously resolved trauma. I do not want to use drugs to sleep and additional electric shock treatments were not advised this time. I have been having trouble figuring out what to do to help myself, so I asked for help-your help in fact."

"Is that all?"

"Why, yes, isn't that enough? I can't function if I can't sleep." They continued to walk side by side.

"Julia. You trained as a psychiatrist, did you not? Doesn't it help if your patients are willing to be honest with you?" Kate Ripley delivered it very gently and with a smile, looking over the top of her gold-rimmed glasses.

Julia was momentarily flustered. "I am not sure what you mean," she temporized, then adjusted herself and grimaced. "Of course, you would have been apprised of my situation, so you assume…"

"Nothing. I assume nothing." Kate dropped her voice and looked carefully and kindly at Julia as she spoke. "I observed you have lost at least ten pounds as your clothing is quite loose, so you are not eating. Your hair and dress are simple and that tells me you are living alone without a lady's maid or anyone to help you get ready." She took Julia's hands in hers. "Your hands are as rough as mine, so that tells me you are doing some washing, yardwork and heavy cleaning yourself, so you are eschewing servants, so I wonder if that is done to avoid prying eyes. You appear to be only using three rooms in this very large house. The house is well-ordered, but hasn't been dusted in weeks, which tells me you have had no company or that you are so depressed you no longer notice these things, or both. The piano and Victrola are also layered in dust, so you have not indulged in any music…."

"Despite abundant flowers around your home, you have brought none inside to enjoy, and by the orientation of the chair by the window and arrangement of belongings around it, you spend a lot of time sitting and staring at the lake. You have stacks of unopened mail in your kitchen, and the telephone rang at least twice since I got here and you answered it neither time, so I wonder if you are avoiding interacting with others. I won't even mention the bottles of wine and spirits. You don't know the dog, although it could be a visiting animal I suppose, but that suggests to me you have not interacted much with your neighbours." She paused. "Anxiety and depression both produce those symptoms, as does grief." As she spoke, Kate's voice was infused with tenderness and humor, and she caught Julia's blue eyes with her hazel ones, bringing her into some kind of joint conspiracy regarding these facts.

"Julia, you are the only one who knows what you are thinking and feeling, and you are the one who knows what you went through. I am here to bring some tools and ideas for helping people deal with terrible events. You and I will work together to discover what is necessary to help you feel better. You will eventually tell us both what it all means. As for figuring things out, the problem with intelligent people is that they use their greatest strengths, powers of reasoning and logic in a crisis, and it fails them in times like this. The mind just spins and repeats, getting nowhere." Kate prompted a response.

Julia just nodded in agreement.

"Now, what are your thoughts?" Kate inquired.

 _I think it is like having William's powers of observation invested in someone else. Only part of why I have been avoiding him,_ she thought. She considered for a long while, letting the space between them fill with quiet. For the first time in many days she actually _felt_ something stirring, and thought it might be hope. Julia said slowly, "I think you are exactly what I need, Kate," and sighed as her eyes started tearing. "I have roughly until the end of December, maybe a little sooner or later depending on the weather, before I will be forced to go back to Toronto and try to get my job back and my life in better order." She looked at Kate critically. "I am not weak, you know, quite the opposite in fact. I usually know my own mind. That is what is so frustrating right now." Julia saw that Kate believed her.

Kate responded: "As I understand it, you experienced an extraordinary set of circumstances that would produce a pretty strong reaction in anyone. The body and mind do what they do…it is how we are made and not a flaw. It is not weakness; it is a fact of human life and I think you are having at least some normal reactions to what just happened to you, and others that are more problematic. What I also do understand is that you are resilient and stuck at the moment."

Julia looked again at her companion. "Do you have a plan for helping me?"

"Yes. Whatever works. Shall we?…."


	8. Chapter 8

**Vignette 7**

"Detective, here is the information you requested." William looked up from his work table, put his tools down and took the offered papers, then rose to greet the other man as he thumbed through the material, impressed by the contents.

"Thank you George. This is excellent work. Thank you for rushing to finish it." He smiled at the constable, making eye contact and an effort to connect with him in a way he had not really been able to do for a long time. All day he felt like he had just emerged from under water, newly aware that he had been distant and preoccupied, and also aware that he had been taking the people around him for granted when they had been nothing but kind through the months of Julia's trial and then Gillies' trial and current appeal process, and the fact that Julia, _Dr Ogden,_ had been excluding him from her life. Today he was going to correct his error, starting with George Crabtree.

"Sir?" George responded, taken aback at the sudden warmth from the detective. Murdoch had missed nary a day of work, remained professional as always, but had been essentially a shell of himself without any spark, at least to anyone who knew him well, and the constable counted himself among those who did. George had come to expect a polite dismissal or a distracted thank you, and was pleased that he, and his work on behalf of the detective, were noticed today. He could not help smiling back.

"What I mean is that I appreciate…well, everything. I have been…." William ran out of words and gave up, shrugging his shoulders and making a face. "I hope you can forgive my lapses…"

"Sir, if you don't mind me saying, all the lads here understand that things have been, well, difficult, but we are 100% behind you sir."

"You never let me down George. I don't even think I ever thanked you enough for saving my life…" William faced the other man in a formal posture. "I am very grateful. I owe you all so much."

"Never you mind, sir. You're very welcome." He turned to leave, hesitated and then swung around. "It's good to have you back, sir," he said as he touched his helmet and grinned.

"Indeed." William knew he was not where he needed to be, but it seemed something had shifted for him last night in his sleep.

Sleep, when it came to him, had been restless since Julia's departure from Toronto. Sadly (but not unexpectedly), she did not inhabit his dreamless nights, and while he was awake he kept the emptiness and his agitation about her in abeyance with work. Then for no reason he could understand, William had dreamt of Anna last night.

Coming-to this morning, he was blessedly calm, and the stillness stayed with him throughout the day. He customarily carried her gift of a St Michael's medal in his pocket, but had not really thought about her in years, since she left Toronto with her life for adventures of the wider world. It was odd to him that Anna, unprompted, visited him in his imaginings and that he would feel peaceful as a result, especially as his dream revisited their intimacy.

Father Clemens, the new priest at St Paul's, had by turns challenged, persuaded and bullied William into finishing what he started with Father Faire, which was fully and faithfully completing St Ignatius' Spiritual Exercises. The old priest extracted this as penance of sorts before he left, hoping it would provide a journey to salvation. Unable to attend a solitary retreat, the detective had carved out time for reflection and prayer before and after work, finishing his preparation days and the second of four sets of reflections, meditation and prayers. He planned on starting the third set this evening. The task as he was undertaking it was lasting much more than 4 weeks, _more like four months…but then again_ , thought William, _I have a lot to atone for._

He had spent considerable time observing the pattern of sin in his life, trying to eject the hubris that he found had taken root in him. He prayed that he was loved despite his sinning, and knew that was not yet good enough—he had to believe with his whole heart in Divine Love as a spiritual gift.

But, something _was_ different from yesterday, he could feel it in himself, and he wondered again what his dream about making love with Anna meant, since he knew it to have been a sin he committed with her, and about which he still refused to carry shame or regret. His conscience remained clear in the matter as he thought it would be disrespectful to Anna and what they shared if he harbored those sorts of feelings, in any case.

William went back to his task, but as he manipulated his tools his mind drifted to Anna. She had asked quite sincerely and pointedly how many times he thought he'd get second chances in this world. In that moment, he knew his mind went immediately to Liza, and to Julia who, then as now, was lost to him. He was not going to pass up another opportunity with Anna. She invited him to inaugurate her adventures and satisfy mutual curiosity by exploring each other's bodies. They made love until dawn, slowly, languidly, and quite thoroughly, all the while laughing and talking as old friends. It was simple, open and pleasant between them, not a grand passion such as he thought he'd have had with Julia—but comfortable and _good_ none the less. It was reaffirmation of life out of loss for them both. _Educational too,_ he smiled to himself. Arthur Kitchen once told him that conjugal relations puts a man to slumber, but that was not true for him at all. He had had no sleep that night, yet the next day, like today, he felt calm, awake, and aware. _Maybe this is what it feels like to give oneself over and free up the conflicts that bar happiness._

The second (and last) time with Anna was quick, impulsive and more intensely physical, just before her carriage arrived to take her away forever. They did not even get all their clothing off nor make it to an actual bed because the need to spend themselves was so sharp; a brief souvenir before letting go. All those memories of Anna he put away and had not once played over in his mind since they parted. And unlike his dreams of Julia in the past, there was no arousal that accompanied this one.

William put his finished project down and pulled a folded paper out of his pocket and reread the contents. The Pinkerton agent he was paying to keep tabs on Julia and watch over her was inexorably draining his bank account, but provided comfort that she was at least somewhat protected from the ongoing machinations of James Gillies, his attorneys and family money. He did not think of this as spying on her per se, but understood she would be very angry if she knew about it, so he would make sure she never did. The current report said that Julia was, by all indicators, still planning to come back to Toronto before the first of the year, and that the dog she acquired had puppies a week ago. He smiled at the idea of Julia and puppies… able for the first time in months to feel peaceful when thinking of her. He decided that Father Faire tasking him with a spiritual cleansing was possibly bearing fruit already.

He put the report in his desk, on top of the one that told him the female counselor who has been staying at the lake house with Julia had good references and was legitimate. Underneath that was the one that told him James Gillies had indeed figured out how to influence Julia's solicitor into telling her, erroneously, that Dr Garland would be expecting and satisfied with proof of her adultery to move forward on a divorce; something that, of course, had enraged him when he learned about it, turning a regretful but mutual separation into an acrimonious war.

William sighed, checked his watch and looked over to Inspector Brackenreid's office. Father Faire told him once that he needed to see what was actually in front of him, and that failing to do so offends God.

 _I can bring my own refined powers of observation to my work as a detective…I have been trying to teach that skill to George Crabtree, who is coming along nicely,_ he thought, _but I have been neglecting to avail myself of that in my personal life._ _I should take my own advice, for once._

Before he went home to begin the next phase of St Ignatius' exercises, he decided he needed to start making things right as well as he could with the rest of his co-workers, starting with his superior. He stood, straightened his coat and tie and made his way over to the other man's desk.


	9. Chapter 9

**Vignettes 8 & 9**

Grabbing the freshly baked loaf and some jam, Kate settled into her chair at the water's edge, breaking off a chunk and handing the rest to Julia. Crumbs found a place in her lap, and she brushed them into her palm and placed them carefully on the plate. The two of them were wrapped in blankets but enjoying the breeze and the sounds and smells of the water. Julia was teaching bread-making, which she tried to say was quite like chemistry (today was brioche) and Kate reciprocated by teaching Julia to cook some new dishes and tame the garden outside (each more art than science.)

Kate looked at the other woman, and thought to herself that Julia was doing very well at present, considering when they started she was nearly suicidal. The nightmares ended within about three weeks of working together. For Julia, darkness was marginally more tolerable now and she could finally sleep restfully which was a relief. Julia's physical memories of her ordeals were also reduced, but she still felt a choking sensation or panic when triggered, necessitating constant action to ameliorate. Both women knew complete recovery was going to be a slow process. Kate glanced again at her patient and companion, who was feeding tidbits of bread to the dog _. We are going to have to talk about avoidance today—and anger,_ Kate thought.

"I wonder if she will miss her babies," Julia offered with pats to the broad head. There were four puppies, all cute, born a month ago, and would need homes about the time Julia went back to hers in Toronto. One neighbor renting a house down the lane had already claimed one. "She is a good mother, aren't you, girl?" Julia said with the last morsel in her hand. The dog was pregnant on arrival and not claimed by any of the neighbours Kate persuaded her to canvass. They called her "Tari," short for Ontario, and took her in for the duration of the pregnancy out of female sympathy and solidarity. Kate was even considering taking Tari with her when her work with Julia was over.

Julia was not sure exactly how it happened, but while they fussed over the dog, baked and cooked and gardened and walked, Kate got her moving into a rhythm again. All through that they just….talked. About anything and (almost) everything.

Julia was slowly working up to reentering at least an outer-semblance of her normal life. She was able to rent her house again after all starting in January (would not even considering living in Darcy's house on Jarvis), and already lined up appointments with her solicitor, banker, and the administrator of the asylum. She had spoken to her sister and father at some length on the telephone, and written a few letters to friends, a very difficult one to Darcy's parents…had even spoken to Emily. The trauma symptoms were in much better control, but she had not approached her grief and none of it touched her anger. The therapy with Kate was nothing she had expected and everything she needed, but would be ending soon, before she was completely ready. Julia knew perfectly well she was still avoiding the deepest issues, and needed to prepare herself…and she was very, very afraid to open the wound that was William.

# # # # # #

"Pull! Puuullll!" Three adolescent boys grunted at the rope as Father Clemens, high on scaffolding, steadied the enormous chandelier's rise to the ceiling of St Paul's. The priest called down to the crew on the floor of the church, and then turned and muttered to his companion, "I hate heights!" while sharing a wry grin. William had personally wired the sanctuary lights for electricity and was up here in the air with him ready to install this final one, just in time for Christmas week. Father Clemens also persuaded William to teach some of the young people in the congregation about basic electricity and wiring in classes after work at the rectory, as a way to build skills that might lead to employment. His first students (14 boys and one girl) cleaned, prepared and rewired all the oil lamps in the rectory and it went so well, Father Clemens thought he might ask William to do it again after the first of the year. Three of the students were now many feet below manning the hoist.

The light was nearly there now, and William brought the connections together, then the two men fastened the medallion and chain securely. William inspected each light a second time and called down to one of the boys,

"Turn on the whole sanctuary power, then turn on the light and let's see what we have!" He watched two lads run off, and waited a few minutes until one called out, "Ready?"

The priest said "Yes!" and with a click the lights blazed. He and William congratulated each other and then made their way carefully down the scaffolding. By the time his feet were solidly on the church floor, Father Clemens noticed the change falling over his parishioner again—inner tension betraying the outwardly calm appearance.

William had started by reading and studying the Gospels and discussed his questions and thoughts over tea and chess in the rectory at least once a week, as a satisfying friendship developed between the two men, with the priest only occasionally having to struggle to keep up with his companion's quite singular mind. They were close in age, the priest being a few years younger, and had interests in common that lead to a rapid mutual appreciation over the last couple of months. Better still, William was willing to submit to spiritual guidance and the confessional and keep that separate from their socialization. Christ's Passion was the current discussion topic: Faith and Love. _But there it is again,_ Father Clemens thought, _that sadness and disquiet._

Father Clemens drew the lads together and thanked them, then asked them to pray with him, eyeing William in an invitation to join, which he did. "Please pray with me gentlemen: _Teach us, good Lord, to serve You as You deserve; to give and not to count the cost; to fight and not to heed the wounds; to toil and not to seek for rest; to labor and not to ask for any reward, save that of knowing Your Will, Amen._ "

"Amen," echoed the lads and William.

"More St Ignatius, Father?" asked William as they walked out behind the boys who headed home, and the two of them went over to the rectory.

"I think it apropos, don't you? Is it not almost your own motto, except you substitute "Truth" for the Lord's Will? Your whole career has been about serving the truth, if I were to characterize it."

William paused, wondering where the priest was going with this. "Yes, Father, I like to think so…" They both entered the rectory parlour.

"You are working on the third Movement of St Ignatius' exercises now, are you not?" He saw William nod. "Yet, you still struggle with God's Will. What if the truth, William, is that your Julia remains lost to you?"

"Then I will have to accept that and go on with my life…" William spoke it flatly, sitting in a hard-backed chair.

"So…you would give up so easily? What if the truth is that you belong together…?"

"How can that be, Father? She has made no move to contact me. I promised to stay away and I have. My behavior, _my sin_ , cost another man his life and nearly got her killed. Even if God forgives me…. _Julia does not_!" William started his delivery this through clenched teeth, and looked at the priest's face in consternation as his voice dropped into a whisper by the end of the statement.

"Ah…you are now willing to entertain the idea that God forgives? That is a start. As for your Julia…William, it has only been three months and a little more. You need to give her enough time to heal and adjust. You know your own spiritual journey is taking extra time too and is not unfolding without wrinkles." Father Clemens leaned over the chess board. "I thought you were a man who knows how to wait?"

"That's just it, Father, I have made the mistake of being slow to act, or waiting too long….."

"William, are you, or Julia, really to blame here? Did you recruit Mr Gillies to stalk and terrorize your life or hers? Did you desire Dr Garland's death? Did your _love_ for each other truly cause any of this?" Father Clemens had withheld speaking this way until now, trying to calculate the right timing for it.

William groaned. "No. Joseph, it did not!" William used the priest's Christian name only rarely and only in private, signaling a shift between priest and friend. He was upset enough at the other man's goading to do so now as he put his head in his hands. "James Gillies is to blame and he will ultimately pay for his crimes, but I can't help feeling guilty as irrational as that is. "

"So you know it is irrational…. Tell me, my friend, if Julia is as smart as you say she is, don't you think she will eventually arrive at the same conclusion? And when she returns, what will she be seeking in you and what will you have to offer?" He looked at William, making sure he was paying attention. "Have faith," he said, as he moved his first pawn on the board.

# # #

William tucked his maroon scarf tighter to keep his chest from the brunt of the cold after bidding Father Clemens good night. He planned on walking home and doing some reading before bed, but by the time he reached the street he changed his mind. He checked his watch and hailed a passing hansom, heedless of the expense, and asked to be taken to his boarding house and for the cab to wait outside.

"Mrs Kitchen? Mrs Kitchen!" he called, and knocked on her parlour door before she opened it and peered out. "There you are!"

"Whatever is the matter, Mr Murdoch?" his landlady asked. She hadn't seen him in a state like this in a while and was alarmed.

"Nothing is the matter Mrs Kitchen, and I know it may be an inconvenience, but I was wondering if you would like to attend the station house Christmas party with me. Tonight? Now, in fact. " he grinned at her and looked as appealingly as possible to persuade her.

"Now? A party?" Mrs Kitchen's hand flew to her hair to check her pins. "Well, I am not dressed for a party, and it is very cold and snowy outside…."

"No one is dressing up, it is just some food at a local pub and I was hoping you would do me the pleasure of accompanying me. I'm sure there will be singing," he threw in to sweeten the deal. He knew Mrs Kitchen loved Christmas songs. "I have a cab waiting…?"

Mrs Kitchen rallied quickly. _If Mr Murdoch is actually going to have a little fun for once, who am I to get in the way of that!_ "I would be honoured Mr Murdoch. Let me get my coat and hat."

William helped her with her coat and escorted her to the waiting cab, bundling both of them in the carriage rug for warmth as the driver took off for their destination. He had decided he could not bear attending the New Year's Policeman's Ball with its memories of Julia, and firmly declined all entreaties to do so. But maybe the Christmas party tonight would be a good start at socializing again. And having Mrs Kitchen with him will reduce the awkwardness, he hoped. _I wonder who will win the betting pool about whether or not I was going to show up?_


	10. Chapter 10

**Vignette 10**

Snow drifted against the front windows and Julia was very glad to be in Toronto and inside her home today. She held the mug of hot, fragrant tea tightly in her hands and wrapped her shawl even tighter. She left the lake house none too soon; as much as she wished to, waiting any longer would have been a mistake. A day ago the roads were clear and the weather fine but cold, and her meeting with the administrator and board at the asylum went better than she expected. She had been right in believing that she would only regain her position with a face to face intercession. The conversation yesterday was difficult but necessary, and afforded her the opportunity to clear up some lingering misconceptions and correct the record, and she thought overall she advocated very well for herself. It was going to be a fight, but one she thought she would ultimately win no matter how long it took.

She was discovering her way slowly since being back in town and on her own for the last two weeks. Her father even offered to send Mrs Hastings to her but she declined, still needing some distance and solitude. Julia found she did miss Kate Ripley - _and, of all things, the dog!_ She promised Kate she would continue the therapy the two of them started together, using journaling and a process of questioning her irrational thoughts, and that she would not give up on her strategies to keep the horrid memories at bay.

" _Going through this process is going to make me a better psychiatrist,"_ she told Kate numerous times. _"This is hard work!"_ Julia rebuked herself for ever underestimating what a patient experienced in therapy. She had in fact taken up each of the suggestions she and Kate worked out together—save one.

William had already sent a welcome-home present—not conventional flowers, fruit or food, but all the copies of her favorite journals and papers that she missed for the months while she was in jail or at the lake. The note said only: _"Thought you might enjoy these - W."_ It was of course extremely thoughtful and just perfectly what she had wanted to read, and only William would think of it….but she could not bring herself yet to even thank him, and certainly not see him. _He also did not ask to see me_ , she noticed. _Then again,_ _I did tell him to go away and that I would be the one to initiate contact again._

Julia sighed and recalled her last days at the lake house. Kate had maneuvered her into starting to deal with her grief and guilt about Darcy… and William. She and William had argued about her marriage and divorce, one of the biggest disagreements they had ever had, (certainly the loudest), yelling at each other in public, right before Darcy's death.

" _At least, for once, we got an issue out into the open and talked about it, rather than keeping the feelings in_ ," she said to Kate in a frustrated moment _._ After thoroughly searching her mind, she did have to own that she was the one who made the decision to leave for Buffalo, accept Darcy's proposal and get married without ever explaining any of it to William. Deeper still were her feelings for and about William, starting with her anger with him for not immediately trusting her when she said that she did not harm Darcy. Telling all of this to Kate was cathartic, as well as excruciatingly painful.

There was a sense of betrayal in all of that which needed healing. It was not the first time William accused her of something, or at least asked her to explain her behaviors. _It was not going to be the last,_ she imagined. _It is just the way his mind works, he needs answers, seeks truth no matter the cost…He always needs to think things through…_ Coming to that conclusion was an exhausting struggle.

" _Kate, I had to swear to the truth under oath. I had to say, out loud, that I did love Darcy, at least at one time, with William looking right at me…it was very difficult to admit that."_

" _Did he seem angry?"_ Kate had asked.

" _No, actually, he did not."_ She was not sure why that bothered her.

She also told Kate how William reacted when she declared her innocence on the witness stand. She played that moment over and over in her mind, not understanding what to make of it _. "Did he really not truly believe me until I testified, knowing I would not lie under oath, even to save my life?"_ she asked Kate – who had the good sense not to try to answer. _"He had actually_ _suggested_ _I lie_ _! William, of all people! You cannot possibly understand how shocking that was for me to hear!..."_

Kate let her weep and rage and vent and wring her hands until no more tears came. _All emotions are by definition irrational,_ Kate reminded her. Julia had to resolve the internal conflict of that awareness with the truth of how she felt. She had to work through anger with William for being Gillies' target and for his failure to move forward in their relationship _. "All those wasted years!"_ she cried. Kate had waited her out and only then chided her that she had been dictating the terms of the relationship almost from the beginning _._

 _Just like now, I suppose._

Kate helped her with the very uncomfortable insight that there were times when she reacted to William as if he was her father, feeling defensive or defiant and angry, like she was being challenged or not measuring up. She and Kate laughed at what Herr Doktor Freud would make of that. _"_ _My father is cold and distant; William is neither. William is also capable of changing his mind—Father is implacable. But I have distanced myself from William on more than one occasion…just like I do with Father."_ Kate had no response to that _._

Julia looked at her empty tea mug, and the white knuckles on her hands that gripped it so tightly. She released her fingers one at a time and sighed. Kate had eventually asked her what the attraction to William was and if she was still in love with him.

Her feelings had leapt up immediately, but she was unable to answer right away—it took about three days in fact to gather her thoughts in any coherent manner. Julia started by explaining how they met and worked together, how William arranged their first (uninterrupted) date, and the powerful physical attraction that matches the intellectual one.

Julia smiled at the remembrance, especially their first kisses, but sobered quickly as another darker recollection asserted itself. She spoke slowly and hesitatingly. _"Kate, did you know I actually did kill a man once?"_

Kate, who normally displayed few unplanned reactions, froze momentarily with her eyes wide. Julia acknowledged the surprise and continued: _"He was what we call a sequential killer—murdered dozens of women and came after me. I…stabbed him with scissors when he tried to attack me. After that happened, I was drawn to William for comfort, just wanted to be held by him, felt safe with him…and this was before acknowledging any relationship between us at all…I don't know why I am telling you this—but you asked me what the attraction is, and that is part of it…"_ Julia shook her head and refocused, then shrugged off the difficult memory _._

" _My sister thinks William is interesting perhaps, but stiff and dull. So what do_ _ **I**_ _like about him you ask? I think he is anything but, although he_ _can_ _be reserved and so very proper that it is amusing to poke at him for that."_ She sighed contentedly _. "Oh, but when he laughs it transforms him."_ Julia started smiling, and speaking more energetically, eyes focused in a middle distance. _"He has a fine mind, and broad scope of interests, is exceptionally well-read and almost completely self- taught. He treats me as an equal which is refreshing in an otherwise proud, socially- conventional man. We can talk about chemistry and science… literature and music… He is logical, rather brilliant and no one solves a puzzle as well as he…the way his brain works is fascinating..._

" _When he puts his mind to an idea he gets extraordinary results. You should see him when he is working out a problem or inventing something…like a boy full of youthful enthusiasm. I swear in school he must have been that lad that always had his hand up with the answer."_ She frowned. " _Of course then there are times when he is breathtakingly obtuse and frustrating in the extreme. We argue! It is never smooth with him, which is what makes it so interesting I suppose..._

 _"I, er... find him quite handsome, with the most extraordinary eyes and beautiful hands. When I am with him I am usually exhilarated… Still, it is more than his physique or his face, or even his mind…."_

" _Have you acted on your attraction? Are you and he intimate?"_ At this point in their conversations there was no room for secrets.

Julia hesitated anyways. _"No. I stopped us on our very first date, if you can believe that,"_ she laughed sadly, _"One of his best points is that William is always a gentleman. I don't think it was his intention to seduce me. In fact, I made the first move to kiss him….quite forward of me, I know."_ Julia blushed. _"I certainly wanted him to make love to me and I know he would have if I permitted…the feeling was indescribable with him."_

" _And then you stopped what you started. Why?"_

" _I gave him an excuse." She made an exasperated noise. "At this point, I really have no idea why. I suppose I got frightened at how quickly we were swept up. He is Roman Catholic, of all things…they are very strict about relations outside of marriage. Perhaps I was afraid he would have regrets because we had been drinking, or more likely, if I were to be completely honest...that I was not ready to make a commitment right then….. If we had just had a little more time before other events stepped in..."_ Julia allowed her mind to wander.

She looked seriously at Kate. _"You know, I think there is a theory about decisions we make. Each one opens an alternative future. If William and I had… consummated our relationship then, I have come to believe so much of what has happened since would never have occurred. When I think of all the pain and trouble, I cannot help but regret my decision…for so many reasons. Even Darcy's death…"_ Julia gestured helplessly. _"I suppose some other evil would still exist…"_

" _As for the attraction to William, I cannot explain it—nothing I have said to you can really encompasses it. I would almost say it is his…_ _soul_ _that draws me in. Isn't that ridiculous, especially coming from me?"_ Julia had admitted this with what she knew had to be an astonished look on her own face _. "Do you believe in fate? It's just that I believed we were meant to be together if only we could figure out how….and I don't know what I believe now."_ She bypassed answering if she was still in love with William. _That was like asking if I still needed air._

" _Julia,"_ Kate had said _, "so if being with him makes you happy, do you suppose there is a relationship between how you are feeling now and that fact he is nowhere in your life? You have a second chance and are denying it. Why do you suppose you have done that?"_ At that, Kate called for Tari, put her on the leash and took a very long walk on the beach, leaving Julia alone and irritated with Kate for that question which was left hanging, unanswered.


	11. Chapter 11

**Vignette 11**

"Stop your complaining, Henry! This weather is nothing like Newfoundland. Why, when I was a boy you had to tie a rope around yourself just to make sure you got to the privy and back and not get lost in a blizzard! There was a woman once who was blown clean off the cliff in a gale because she did not heed the "small people" warnings!" Constable Crabtree was of course teasing his work mate but was annoyed at Constable Higgins' grousing about the cold and the snow. It was almost February, in Toronto, so what did the man really expect?

"The Queens' Funeral, God rest her soul, will be in two days and the Proclamation is very specific about making sure that business are closed until sundown on Saturday and people can get to church." Constables were tasked with going from business to business in their areas handing out copies of the Proclamation and warning shopkeepers they risked arrest and fines for violating it. These two from Station No 4 were slogging through the last icy streets in the business district on a very cold Thursday evening, and since it was very slow going it did not look like they would get back to work (and the warmth of the station house stove) until way past 6 o'clock quitting time.

Henry could not help muttering back something scatological about cold and someone or something's anatomy and George shot him a dirty look. It was well after five o'clock already and full dark, but there were many people still on the street doing last minute shopping, maybe more than usual since the Saturday markets were going to be closed. The two of them approached the next store, a jewelers' displaying gifts suitable for the upcoming Valentine's Day. Higgins lingered at the window.

"Henry! Do you have a sweetheart that I don't know about?" asked George. "Are you going to propose?"

"George, you know Ialways have a sweetheart. I enjoy a bit of fun, not all so serious like you andDetective Murdoch," Henry offered with a chuckle.

"What's wrong with myself or the detective? We conduct ourselves like gentlemen, that's all."

"Bollocks! To use the inspector's current favorite phrase. You make it all too complicated. In my view, you see a girl you like, you tell her you like her and then ask her out. Simple as pie. You seem to want to model yourself after Detective Murdoch. Why? You are much more creative than he is, with a fine sense of humor when you get going. Work not-with-standing, his love life is a mess!" Henry added the last part in a whispered aside.

"Henry, the detective would not appreciate his personal life being the subject of gossip and speculation."

"Says the man who won the bet about whether or not he was going to come to the Christmas party," Henry threw right back.

George found he wanted to defend himself but before he could get a word out, he pulled Henry sharply by the sleeve into the shop and peered back out the window into the street. "Oh, sweet Jesus! Henry, look…"

Henry sought out what George was pointing to, just as Detective Murdoch and Dr Ogden collided into each other on the slippery side walk.

# # #

William was almost overbalanced but corrected himself and reached out to the woman who slipped, only realizing too late that he had missed her waist and had a handful of her backside instead. He simultaneously released his grip and saw Julia in front of him, deeply bundled in a thick coat, with muffler and fur hat, but still recognizable by her bearing, height and sharp tongue.

"Watch out! ….How dare you…." She froze, clutching her basket to herself for protection, then recognizing him.

Neither of them spoke. For a long minute. Just stared at each other as passers-by grumbled and hurried along out of the biting wind.

William reacted first, getting his hands to his sides and offering an apology with a small formal bow. "Please forgive me….are you injured?"

"No. I am fine, thank you." She managed to look him in the face while saying this, aware of him studying her, and full of indecision. "You are looking well…detective" she said.

"As do you ...Shall I help you with your purchases?" he inquired, not sure where this was going, but noted it was "detective" and not his Christian name she used. He tried his best to look neither overeager nor disappointed.

Julia thought if she kept talking with him on the street it would end badly, so to avoid that she said, "No, thank you, I have another stop to make before going home." She struggled to steady her heart from racing. _Oh, William. It's too soon to see you, I am not ready. This is not how I imagined we'd meet again._

"Welcome back to Toronto, doctor…"

' _Welcome back to Toronto, doctor?' Is that the best you can do?'_ he said harshly to himself. He did not know what to say to make her continue the conversation or interact with him in some meaningful way. He had rehearsed so many scenarios of meeting her again, but never _this_ particular one and he was at a complete loss.

She answered. "Thank you. And….thank you for the journals, it was very thoughtful of you." She gave no mind at all to the wind or the angry stares of people on the side walk who were forced to move around the two of them by detouring into the street. Her left flank reminded her where his hand had been by aching for him to place it there again and draw them closer together…

"My pleasure. You are very welcome." He saw his opportunity slipping away. "I had hoped to discuss some of the articles with you at some point. Did you read that paper on memory by Herr Wilhelm Louis Stern? I thought it would pique your interest, and the author is giving a lecture next month at the university….."

"I really must go. It was good to see you…" She hoped she said it gracefully. She noticed William's face fall, nearly imperceptibly, and that he covered it up immediately.

"Yes, yes, it is good to see you as well." He almost reached for her hand and converted it at the last moment to a farewell gesture instead.

William had a sense of déjà vu. He was on a street again. With Julia. Going to part company with her, and he was about to passively acquiesce. _Not again…_ She started to turn away so he went around in front of her to bar her passage.

Unable to let her go, he asked, "Julia. May I call on you?" Reaching for her hand, she let him take it in his. William had always thought "time standing still" was an overly romantic notion that violated the laws of physics but at that moment there was no sense of time going forward as he waiting for her response. He was not even aware he was holding his breath.

"Yes, William. Possibly the lecture next month…?"

Julia shocked herself with her answer… _What am, I doing?_

"I am not really ready to socialize much, but perhaps an outing to the university would suit me. I will call you, is that all right?"

 _Where is this coming from_? She questioned herself, unsure why she was going against all logic and against her better judgement. She saw William's face light up and that he was trying not to look too happy. She felt her own heart thrill at the depth of his gaze, snow collecting on his hat and the dark fringes over a pair of warm brown eyes…

 _Not everything is rational I suppose. Kate would be so pleased…._

# # #

"What do you think they said to each other, George?" Henry asked, as the constables watched detective and doctor part ways.

"I don't know, Henry. But whatever it was, I hope it was good. Come on, my man. We have twenty more flyers to pass out. If you take the right side of the street and I take the left we can get it done in half the time and I will buy the first whiskey to warm us up!"


	12. Chapter 12

**Vignettes 12 & 13 **

"Good morning Dr Grace, what have you?"

Emily Grace looked up from the body she was examining when she heard Detective Murdoch come down the ramp. He took his usual position on the other side of the corpse to receive her report, politely removed his hat and peered at her work. It was cold and snowy enough outside for him to have come across the laneway with his coat on, and cold enough in the morgue for her be wrapped in a long sweater under her apron and have woolen leggings on underneath her skirts. They both could see wisps of their own breath. The small black stove did little to provide any warmth, and William noticed Dr Grace had moved a table and chair near it for her paperwork.

"Detective, I have an adult male, age I would estimate in mid to late 50's, who was found outside his quarters, frozen in the snow. It appears he tried to open a window to ventilate the basement room his family was sleeping in and had a heart attack while trying to pry it open. The other three bodies," she shrugged to indicate the gurneys waiting to the side, "are his wife and I assume children or grandchildren. He was too late or died trying." She sighed. "This is the second family this week that succumbed to toxic fumes from a heater. My supposition is someone stole his coat, dislocating an arm in the process. I believe he was dead from the heart attack before that happened as there is no bleeding in the damaged tissues, no bruising, but he was not frozen through yet when the coat was taken."

"The family. Carbon monoxide, Doctor?"

"Indeed. Desperate people do desperate things in the cold. Lately it is either the fumes or a fire. Nothing suggests foul play, unless the chimney was blocked or tampered with?" she inquired.

"There is no evidence of that. It appears as you suspect; a family endeavouring to remain warm does not properly ventilate the heat source." He thanked her and started to take his leave, when she stopped him abruptly.

"Detective, Dr Ogden tells me you are going to attend a lecture tonight? With her?" Dr Grace looked earnestly his way.

He paused, straightened and turned back. "Yes," he answered as simply and blandly as he could manage. "If the weather holds. "

He frowned. Julia had reconnected with several of her friends and peers, including Emily, in the weeks since she returned to Toronto. William and Dr Grace had an unspoken agreement that they would not discuss Julia between them, and had mostly kept to that all these months. He did not want to discuss his relationship situation with anyone (except maybe Father Clemens) and certainly did not wish to be the object of speculation or, worse yet, sympathy, even though he knew he had no control over the inevitable gossip.

He was too nervous about tonight and thought he would betray himself if he opened up any conversation with Dr Grace. A very illogical part of him considered it would be tantamount to tempting fate… "Good day, doctor," he offered with a tight smile to close the discussion, and walked deliberately up the ramp and out into the weather.

Dr Grace followed him with her gaze and sent up a little prayer that it would go well this evening for both of them.

# # #

Once at his desk, William straightened the objects in front of him, absent-mindedly touching the rectangular wooden box containing Julia's gift of a bullet extractor. He retrieved it from his kit and placed it there while she was jailed as a silent talisman connecting her to him. They exchanged so very few gifts in all the years, and this was the first from her, given pride of place.

In his desk were tickets for the lecture tonight next to the silver case containing an engagement ring he had never been able to offer her, and which he had studied so often, he no longer needed to view it to see it clearly. The central red stone was not large, but was of exceptional quality…. _A match for Julia,_ he thought when he selected it. He chose the gem quite deliberately for the layers of meaning he hoped to convey: _Ruby for virtue, wisdom, faith and undying love; the sign of a strong woman._ _The diamonds for eternity._

William ran verses from Proverbs in his head and knew that to him, Julia was worth any price-which recently had been large doses of patience and forbearance. As long as the weather permitted he was going to see her tonight and if sheer willpower had any influence, nothing was going to interfere.

He set those musings aside and picked up the file he needed, stood, and went to conduct his next interview, focusing on something at which he confidently excelled.

# # #

Julia checked the mantel clock again and looked outside at the snow coming down in steady billows of white. Swirls shoved by wind danced around the new street lights. William was going to be here in less than 15 minutes and she was agitated. _I have no idea how this is going to go tonight…what will I say to him?_ She stopped pacing, took several deep breaths to calm down and closed her eyes briefly. _Better._

The benefit of going with William as an escort would be seats on the lecture hall floor instead of being relegated to the gallery. But the floor nearest the speaker will also be the coldest area. She spied a shawl that had been a gift from her sister and grabbed that to put around her coat. _The color reminds me of the lake,_ she thought as she gave it a light stroke. _I can wear it in the lecture hall too_ ….

Looking at herself in the hall mirror she grimaced. She was on her third outfit and still dissatisfied with her choice. It was harder to look attractive when one needed to be warm, and she was disgusted with herself for caring so much how she looked, and whether William would like what he saw. It did not escape her that he probably expected and certainly deserved to know the status of their relationship, and if there was any future for them. _How do I tell him I love him and am not sure if I can be with him? How do I tell him that I still don't know how and when to decide?_

A knock on the door ended her reverie. She took another breath to steady herself and went to the door, paused a moment longer then opened it. "Detective, please come in. I will be right with you."

# # #

"Gute Nacht, Herr Doktor Stern!" William said with a handshake and small bow of his head.

"Doctor, Detective, good evening to you as well. You have given me much to consider. Danke!" Herr Stern bowed and waved as he walked to his quarters with an escort from the university. Concern about weather had kept all but a handful of people from venturing out to hear Herr Stern.

"Wasn't that intriguing?" William continued as he and Julia walked to the street for their ride home. "Imagine being able to measure intelligence in a quantifiable way? _His_ mind is so broad and curious. It seems to me there may be more than one kind of intelligence, not just the ability to reason or calculate, use language or have original ideas or even creativity. Even native cleverness….don't you agree? I look forward to what he does with his ideas."

"And his investigations into how memory works are just as fascinating." She gestured to him for emphasis. "He also seemed genuinely interested in our ideas about forensic applications, how to conduct interviews for instance. That's very exciting! Do you suppose he will be able to create an experiment focusing on that?" Julia asked as she looked up and smiled. Snow had stopped suddenly on the trip over and the new moon was very prominent in a now-clear night sky. "I also thought it was very kind of the custodian to let us use part of the library instead of the drafty lecture hall," she continued.

"Indeed. The dozen of us talking around that big table by the fire was quite stimulating, so much better than just listening to a prepared speech. I think we could have gone on all night if given half a chance," he added with a satisfied smile of his own.

"Yes, I think so too. And your point about eye-witness accounts was well put. We know how wrong those can be," she said with only faint irony. "The mind is a funny thing. Much of it shrouded in the unknown. Even to one's self. Especially to one's self, perhaps." Julia faced William directly, had been facing him all evening and wondered how she was going to tell him what she must.

"As you say," he answered as he helped her into the carriage and sat beside her carefully so their bodies did not touch. He looked at her wrapped in dusky blue velvet and imagined how warm and soft the shawl must feel against her skin, and did his best not to reach over and run his hand through it. He had kept his behavior around her very correct and neutral—and no more, to give her room to set the tone and tenor of their interaction. The ride to the university was awkward at first, much too much like the very last hansom they had been in together and conversation was uncomfortably stilted. Once the evening got underway however, Julia became relaxed and animated.

William was very pleased with himself. _So far so good…._ For a while tonight it was as if everything … _else…_ melted away as he and Julia were engrossed in a flow of words and ideas, completely in tune with one another, sparking give and take, feeding off each other's excitement. He thought she was particularly beautiful when her passions were aroused that way.

He _knew_ she felt the connection too, smiling at him across the table only an hour before, taking up his points and adding to them, finishing each other's sentences… All in all things had gone splendidly; he almost believed an act of God cleared the weather and arranged for the perfect collection of people to attend tonight. Loving her had given him courage to persevere on more than one occasion. Tonight he counted himself as more than pleased—he learned what he needed to know: the fundamental nature and underpinning of their relationship was intact, and with that knowledge he was suffused with hope and felt rewarded for his patience and _faith._ He grinned to himself _. I am going_ _to have to find a way to thank Joseph…_

Julia had been elated for the last few hours, feeling the color come back to her face, and a sense of her true self again, energetic and opinionated. She was not sure the electricity with William would assert itself so strongly so quickly, but she reveled in it as it washed over them. "William, I appreciate you escorting me tonight. It is quite what I needed—intellectual stimulation has been hard to come by as of late. And I have missed...these kinds of…collegial conversations."

"As have I, Julia. It has been most agreeable." They rode together in amiable quiet for a short while—the snow muffling the sounds of the horse and carriage.

For most of the evening she allowed herself to be actually happy again. _This is what Kate had pushed me to do, months ago, and which I resisted mightily, right up until I got in the carriage and was on my way to the University. Another part of me apparently knew better and overrode that negative, fearful inner chatter and dragged me along…_ Julia's feeling of safety and comfort in his presence was anodyne to the anxiety and distress of these past months, but she could now feel it ebbing the closer the hansom brought them to her home.

Guilt and anxiety crept back insidiously. To push it away, and prevent him from questioning her, she changed the subject. "William, I have not even asked you what you have been doing all Fall and Winter. Perhaps you can catch me up?" Julia was curious how he had been keeping, especially since he seemed so… _normal_ this evening, even considering how able he was to bury his emotions and intentions under a placid façade.

"Oh, well…I have been quite busy. I have had work, of course, and been volunteering at my church, and, er, I have been working on a new idea for bicycle gears. You remember Sargent Sullivan? He is also in the Toronto Cycling Club with me and he introduced me to a fellow wheelman who became paralyzed from the waist down in a terrible accident. I have been trying to create a cycle that he can operate with his arms…." William discoursed at some length about metal fabrication, gear ratios, leverage, wheels, and something called sprockets.

Julia thought the idea was quite ingenious and said so, while cheerfully offering encouragement for him to enter a cycling race this spring. She was so engaged in his enthusiasm, his question caught her off guard.

"And, Julia, may I ask how have you been?" William delivered this in a quiet, careful voice, and sat back and waited.

Julia's heart raced. She looked at the streetscape, trying to decide how much time there was left until she would be at her door. She judged it was going to be now or never. She was about to choose _never,_ until she recalled that William was often honest with her to his own detriment, that he had claimed time, before, to make a necessary internal adjustment, and that they had previously and successfully put events and troubles in the past in order to find a way forward. She took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. She felt he still loved her and that gave her strength to do what needed doing. _I am stronger than I think I am, and I suppose I owe him the truth…_

Julia answered quietly but clearly, her voice steady: "I have been trying to work through so much, William. I received some very good help and feel much better, but….I am still not completely recovered. Darcy's death weighs so very heavily on me, and I feel so awfully sad he is gone… and guilty, William. I can't shake that…

"And then there is Gillies…" her voice broke slightly. "James Gillies is still alive and has not paid for his crime. I thought I could just stay away until he was dead. William, I think until he is finally hanged I can't move forward, really, with my future." She rushed on, "There is so much to contend with…There is Darcy's estate…I am trying to get my position back at the asylum…" She sighed. "I just do not feel… _free_ to resume my life…" She looked at him, a few tears freezing on her face in the bitter cold. He met her gaze, looking back at her calmly and openly.

"But that is not all you are asking, is it William?" she made it a statement.

William allowed himself space before answering. "Julia, I want you to know I am here, for you, as always. Nothing in that has changed." He wished he could ask if he will have a place in her future-life, and knew he should not do so, not in this particular moment. After tonight, he already thought he had the answer: his quarry was her heart and he believed it was still his to win. That was victory enough to sustain him for now.

She looked up again abruptly. "I haven't even thanked you for saving my life..!" She paused, aware for the first time the carriage was stopped. The horse was stamping while snorting clouds of steam. "I need more time, William… how much time I am not certain. Can you live with that uncertainty?" Julia caught his eyes with hers and squared her shoulders.

 _I will accept whatever he says…I really have no choice._

William kept their eyes locked. He made his voice soft. "Julia, not all variables are knowable, a principle with which I am quite familiar. But I do think I understand your point of view. Take whatever time you need." He looked from one blue eye to the other to gauge her reaction. "I do hope to be able to see you occasionally, if that is all right?" He presented her with what he hoped was a winsome smile.

She smiled back and said. "I have to go. I will see you William, I promise. Good night." She got down and out before he could assist her, and signaled the driver, who took off while William craned back to see her walk to her door.


	13. Chapter 13

**Epilogue**

Late May sunshine poured down and was reflected back up by the harbor water, painting the sides of the Keetawan with shifting light. Julia climbed to the highest decking and leaned into a breeze against the rail, getting a fine view of the city and the lake from her perch, glad for the long pin that kept her hat from taking flight. The Victoria Day sailing was a spontaneous decision to put some time and distance between her and Toronto. She hoped the cruise and change of scenery would calm her nerves which had gotten roughed up, _again_ , by frustration with the legal system. She turned her face towards the sun, soaking it in, allowing the warmth to melt her distress.

She could not bear one more person asking how she was feeling, or worse yet, assuming they knew how she felt about Gillies' most recent delay of execution. Never mind the newspaper stories and intrusive reporters. She had hoped to quietly resume her duties at the hospital, but even that was delayed for another ten days, so she had nothing better to do.

She trusted William would understand. _He has had a lot of practice at it lately_ , she admitted to herself. She cancelled their last three outings, unwilling to tell him that it was out of consideration for how it would appear to others if they were seen together, and hoping he did not interpret it as her rejecting him. Their relationship, such as it was at this point, was very low key, and she had not been able to shake a chronic sense of always holding her breath. She found that very frustrating as well. Proper distance from William meant they had not held hands nor embraced since she was in his arms in jail last year… a very long time. Given even the slightest encouragement, she thought William would be open to restarting their romance… at least she hoped he was. Eyes closed, she allowed her mind to consider William, the way she did every day of her life.

When he walked up beside her out of nowhere, her heart responded immediately. She thought of it as conjuring him up out of wishes, just the way her imagination conjured up fantasies as a child, and took it as a sign that she needed to stop trying to avoid him. There he was: handsome in his suit, with his clean masculine scent, deep brown eyes containing golden glints from the angle of the sun, and inching his fingers towards hers on the railing to lightly graze her hand. He offered only a mild complaint about her absence, and a warm inviting look from underneath his lashes.

For a brief moment she was thrilled and playful— Maybe fate was bringing them together for a reason, and she started flirting, hoping for a kiss, _public display of affection be damned_ ….and placed her hand firmly on his...

 **END of _this_ story but not _their_ story…**

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Dear Reader: Thank you for joining in the fun! Let me know what you think,of the writing, the characterizations, what you like or don't like. I will respond! -rg


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